


Hanged Man

by Romiress



Category: Persona 5, 亜人 - 三浦追儺 & 桜井画門 | Ajin - Miura Tsuina & Sakurai Gamon
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: Yet another weird crossover no one asked for. Set primarily in the Ajin universe.An AU where Tanaka is rescued midway through his torture and then abandoned, and ends up trying to buy a gun off everyone's favorite fake weapons dealer.Feel free to skip to chapter four for the smut.





	1. Chapter 1

There have been rumors, and rumors never make Iwai happy. Every time there’s a _rumor_ , some kind of trouble follows.

Rumors are never good.

The rumor, as far as Iwai can tell, is that someone’s caused trouble. That someone’s on the run. So it isn’t hard to connect the dots when a stranger shows up in his shop looking more nervous than he should for a normal visit.

He’s tall and broad, fit but not terribly muscular. He looks haggard, the kind of look someone gets after a hard few years they weren’t prepared for, and his eyes keep darting back towards the door.

“I want to buy a gun,” the man says, and Iwai is entirely sure that the man’s never even touched a gun in his life.

“Then you came to the wrong place,” Iwai says simply, gesturing to the walls. They’re littered with paraphernalia, but it’s all legal stuff. “This is a legitimate business. We don’t have any shady stuff here, just models.”

The man in front of him shifts nervously, leaning slightly over the counter. There’s a conspiratorial tone to his voice when he speaks again, even though he announced his intention of _buying a gun_  without hesitation only moments before.

“I was told you have connections,” the man says.

The man on front of him looks to be in his mid-twenties, but his maturity says otherwise. He’s little more than a boy, a kid who is so obviously out of his element. 

“You were told wrong,” Iwai says simply, and the man cringes.

He’s like a kicked puppy. A great big kicked puppy.

“And let me guess,” Iwai continues. “You’re the one everyone is after, too.”

The color drains from the man’s face, and he quickly looks over his shoulder, obviously expecting to find someone there. There isn’t--the shop’s empty except for the two of them--and Iwai lets out a snort.

“It’s a miracle they haven’t found you yet,” Iwai says. “You’re as obvious as they come. What did you do, anyway? Screwed the bosses daughter or something? Fucked over a gang?”

He doesn’t really think the guy in front of him was involved with that life. Iwai’s seen them all, and he simply isn’t the type.

The man in front of him squirms, one hand picking at the hem of his shirt distractedly. He’s obviously uncomfortable, and his eyes keep going to the door, but it’s also obvious that he isn’t in any hurry to leave.

Iwai taps his fingers on the counter impatiently, and to his complete lack of surprise the guy in front of him proceeds to simply coughs up the awful truth.

“They’re trying to - to capture me,” he says.

“And who would they be, exactly?”

He’s hoping it’s not anyone he knows.

“Everyone.”

Iwai can’t tell if _everyone_  actually includes the people he knows, and he lets out a snort.

“That isn’t helpful,” he points out. “Obviously it isn’t everyone.”

“It’s everyone,” the man in front of him says, his voice choked. He’s not quite on the verge of tears--not yet--but it seems to Iwai that he’s heading that way. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, and Iwai makes a snap decision, nodding his head to the side.

“Why don’t we head to the back room. Someone’s going to walk in on you otherwise.”

He doesn’t wait for a yes--he just assumes it’s going to come--just loops around the counter and heads up to the front of the store, flipping the sign to closed and locking the door.

“You don’t even know who I am,” the man says, his voice cracking.

“You’re an idiot kid,” Iwai says as he heads into the backroom, “who has obviously bit off more than you can chew.”


	2. Chapter 2

The man in his back room is a bundle of energy, his leg furiously bouncing as he picks at a spot on his jeans. Iwai can’t help but note the sheer number of incongruities now that he’s had a moment to really _look_. The man looks like he hasn’t slept in a week-his hair’s a mess and he looks _dirty_ \--but there are no bags under his eyes. He looks like he’s been sleeping out doors, but there’s none of the telltale signs that come with it. He looks perfectly healthy, as if his exhaustion is purely mental, and all of it adds up to... something.

Iwai’s not quite sure what, but it’s definitely something.

“So,” he says, leaning against the door frame. “You’re on the one from everyone.”

The man in front of him takes a seat on a crate, still fidgeting as he does.

“Yeah, more or less,” he says.

“You got a name?”

He obviously _does_ , but it’s just as obvious he’s not going to pick it up. His eyes slide away, abruptly focusing on the intricacies of Iwai’s storeroom instead.

“Lets try again,” Iwai says. “Why is everyone after you?”

There’s more fidgeting, the anxiety coming off him in waves, and Iwai lets out a sigh.

“You’re just wasting everyone’s time, you know.”

“I-” The man starts, but he obviously can’t quite bring himself to say it. Iwai decides to help him along, closing the distance between them and leaning over to get right into his face.

“You’re wasting your time, and you’re wasting my time,” he says. “You’re obviously here because you’re desperate for help and you’ve got no other options, or else you wouldn’t have tried to buy a _gun_  from a guy you know nothing about.”

“I -” The man protests, his voice wavering, but Iwai doesn’t even let him get that far.

“Don’t waste my time, kid. Just tell me what I want to know.”

He wavers--only for a moment--and then caves.

“I’m - I’m an ajin. And they saw me--they saw me reset--and then...”

“Yeah yeah,” Iwai says, waving off the rest of the explanation. “I get the picture. You died, they saw you, and now you’re on the run from them.”

The man pulls his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees as he wraps his arms around his legs. He’s like a kid, curling up and trying to hide from reality.

“Do they have a picture of you?” Iwai asks, and the man in front of him quickly shakes his head.

“I don’t think so. Just... I mean, they looked at me, so they probably have an idea.”

“Real helpful,” Iwai says. “A Japanese man with black hair.” 

He reaches down, pushing the man’s bangs out of his eyes, and the man immediately flinches away.

“You change your haircut and slouch a bit and no one will even know who you are,” Iwai says. “Trim it real short or slick it back or something. Changing your hairstyle changes a lot about how you look.”

“You don’t even know who I am,” the man mumbles into his knees.

“There’s only been one ajin to show up in the country in the past five years, so it’s not hard to figure out.”

The man--Tanaka Kouji--flinches, and Iwai knows he’s right. He wasn’t sure before, because he’s sure there’s at least a dozen undocumented ajin running around the country--but his body language is so obvious there’s no question.

“But,” Iwai says, “I thought you were supposed to be in government care.”

Kouji shakes his head furiously, obviously agitated.

“No - It - It was really bad. Really -”

“I get it,” Iwai interrupts. “Government bad. Not hard to figure out. How’d you get out?”

“This - uhm, this guy saved me. He took care of me and then he said I was...” His face twists, a pained grimace that lasts only for a moment, and then he continues. “He said I was useless, that I wouldn’t work out. And then he... he just dropped me at a hotel and said he’d paid for the night and I should find my own place.”

Iwai raises an eyebrow at that, pulling back a bit to give Kouji a bit more space.

“He put all the effort in to grab you, and then he ditched you completely?”

Kouji bobs his head sadly.

“Well, makes things easier I guess. You can stop by my place. We’ll get you showered and cleaned up, get you a haircut or something, and then you can start working here.”

“What?” Kouji says, his head snapping up.

“You come back to my place. We’ll clean you up. Then you can work here,” Iwai repeats.

“But -” Kouji says, cutting himself off before taking a moment to try and ground himself. “You don’t even know me.”

“So?” Iwai says. “I need a hand around the shop, and no one’s going to work harder then you. You do a poor job, you’re out. You do a good job, everyone’s happy.”

“But I... I don’t know anything about guns,” Kouji says, his face flushing red.

“They’re _model_  guns,” Iwai says with a huff. “You were going to buy one and you don’t even know anything about them?”

“I just - I wanted something that I could defend myself with.”

“Guns aren’t toys, kid,” Iwai says. “Whatever. I’ll train you on the job anyway. You wouldn’t be the first person I had to coach through this.”

“I...” It’s obvious that Kouji’s at a loss for words, because he pushes himself to his feet, shifting his weight back and forth and obviously struggling to figure out what to say next.

“No thank yous,” Iwai says, heading him off at the pass. “This is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“But-”

“No thank yous,” Iwai repeats. “I’m not going to hear them. We should be going though. If I drop you off now I can get back before my regulars normally show up tonight.”


	3. Chapter 3

Iwai’s house isn’t far, and thankfully they don’t run into trouble on the way home. It isn’t big--little more than three rooms--but it’s home, and Iwai slides into it comfortably, flipping his shoes off in the entrance.

“You smell,” he points out. “But there’s a bath here, so you can use that.”

“I really can’t tha-” Kouji starts, and Iwai waves him off.

“What did I say about thank yous? Get in there,” he says, gesturing to the bathroom. “Towels are on the shelf.”

Kouji stops protesting, and finally vanishes into the bathroom.

Iwai makes a point of tidying up the apartment, but there isn’t all that much to clean. Kaoru left it pretty tidy, and he’s gone out of his way to avoid making a mess himself.

He can hear the water come on as he settles down in front of the TV, but he doesn’t linger long. He can’t make himself sit still, so he settles for making dinner. It’s nothing special--basically just pre-packaged food--but it takes time to prepare anyway.

Kouji emerges, his hair still wet. He looks cleaner and less exhausted, but he still _looks_  like Tanaka Kouji.

“We need to do something about your hair.”

“I...” He starts, obviously nervous. “Don’t really want to cut it.”

“Then style it,” Iwai says without pause. “The only thing that matters is that it looks different.”

“Like... what, exactly?”

Iwai waves him off as he gestures Kouji towards the food. “Do I look like the kind of guy who’d know hairstyles? You should just cut it short.”

He makes a point of pulling his own hat off to demonstrate the point, but Kouji doesn’t look at all excited by the prospect.

“Am I really going to work for you?” Kouji asks as he glances down at the food--still piping hot but totally uneaten--and it’s obvious that’s all that’s on his mind.

“Stop wasting everyone’s time and just eat,” Iwai says, grabbing his own food rather than waiting. “You can work at the shop with me for a bit, and then by yourself once you’ve gotten yourself established.”

“Thank you.”

Iwai lets out another grunt at that.

“Stop thanking me for taking advantage of your situation. If it was anyone else, I’d have to pay them. Instead, I get you working for free. Probably no backtalk, either.”

“But still...” Kouji says.

There are tears in the corners of his eyes, Iwai realizes, and he can’t stop himself from frowning.

“But still nothing. Stop treating me like I’m doing some giant favor. There’s no risk for me here. Cops find out, I say I didn’t know who you were, thought I was helping someone else break away from the gang life. Gangs find out... well, they won’t care for reasons anyway.”

“But -”

“No buts. Seriously, I’m fuckin’ tired of hearing them. If you wanna show me how much you’re thankful, work your ass off at the shop so I can spend my time lying around doing nothing.”

That seems to shut Kouji up for a little bit.

The rest of the evening is almost painfully uneventful, considering he’s got an ajin in his main room. Kouji doesn’t protest when he sets up some extra sheets on the couch. He doesn’t even ask what the spare room is for, and aside from a brief goodnight, leaves Iwai to his own evening routine.

* * *

 

The next morning, Kouji settles on a ponytail. It breaks his profile enough that he’s not immediately recognizable, but it’s not a permanent change either--something that Kouji seems to prefer.

Kouji turns out to not be half bad when it comes to working in the shop. Iwai expects less than nothing from him, and while he’s obviously inexperienced, he’s also genuinely hard working. He’s willing toe shuffle every single box in the store to the other side of the store room, clean it all out, and then shuffle it all back. He doesn’t even complain when Iwai shoves him into the back room to deal with a regular customer.

Iwai’s flying high by the time they close up shop--long after dark--and head back to his place. It’s late, but he’s always been a night owl, and he has no issues with sprawling out in front of the TV, throwing a blanket over himself and leaning back to watch.

“Iwai-san?”

Iwai glances up to where Kouji stands near the bathroom door, freshly washed, his hair still wet.

“I still think you should cut it,” Iwai says in lieu of a response.

“I like it as it is,” Kouji says, but he reaches up even as he does, dragging his fingers through his hair self conciously.

“You probably want to sleep,” Iwai says, patting the floor beside him, “but I’m probably not going to bed for another half hour or so.”

Kouji hesitates for a moment, and then does join him, sitting down beside him.

Iwai’s completely stopped focusing on Kouji--his attention is really only on the TV--when Kouji’s body suddenly slides into his vision as the other man leans over, hovering over him.

“You... all this is because you want to sleep with me, right?”

Iwai would have been lying if he’d said it hadn’t occurred to him. Kouji’s young and fit, very much Iwai’s _type_ , but he’s also painfully vulnerable.

Iwai knows a lot about vulnerable people.

“I’m not going to pass on the chance, if you’re offering,” he jokes, “but no, this whole thing isn’t a big fucking con job to get in your pants.”

Kouji flushes red, and Iwai knows he’s fucked up. Not because Kouji’s upset, but because he’s _not_  upset. Because he looks more blushy-embarassed, rather than mortified.

“Would you?”

Iwai knows _exactly_  what he means, but he plays dumb anyway.

“Would I what?”

“Would you... you know, sleep with me?”

Iwai considers retracting the entire damn offer. It’s going to be a mess no matter how it goes down, but Kouji’s staring up at him with his eyes wide and eager.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware,” Iwai says, “but I’m probably twice your age.”

Or close enough to count.

Kouji squirms, but he’s not nearly as put off as he should be by the whole thing.

“When they got me, I thought... I really regretted that I wasn’t even going to get to give it all a try. That I hadn’t even had my first _kiss_. That I wasn’t-”

“I get the picture,” Iwai interrupts. “You’re a great big cherry who hasn’t even held hands with a girl, and now you’re getting your first chance to get your dick sucked and you don’t want to miss it.”

 _That_  makes Kouji go red in the face, his horror obvious.

“No!” He splutters. “That’s not-”

“I’m fuckin’ with ya. I know you’re not after that. You just want to take what you can get because you don’t think you’re going to get another chance.”

Kouji’s still red, and his eyes drop down to the floor, refusing to respond. It’s easy--painfully so--for Iwai to convince himself. It’s been months since he got to enjoy himself, and it’s easy to imagine the sorts of trouble Kouji could get into pursuing his desires with someone else.

“We can do this stuff,” Iwai says, “but only if you’re going to say no.”

“If I’m going-”

“I wasn’t finished,” Iwai says with a scowl. “You gotta be willing to say no if you don’t want something, or stop if it’s too fast. You gotta communicate, or else we’re not doing anything more sexual than watching TV together.”

Kouji bobs his head, just as compliant as Iwai expected him to be.

“I can do that,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Good. Then get to bed.”

Kouji’s head snaps up, confused and already bordering on upset.

“It’s like four AM,” Iwai points out. “And we have work tomorrow. And the day after that. So if you want to get frisky, it’s going to have to wait till Tuesday.”

Kouji stares.

“...Tuesday?”

“Day off. Shipment comes in Wednesday. Stores closed Tuesday.”

Kouji somehow manages to get even _redder_ , a feat that Iwai didn’t think was possible.

“Okay,” he says after a moment, and Iwai takes that as his cue to go, pushing himself to his feet.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Try not to fantasize _too_  hard, kid.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kouji obviously _does_  fantasize, because he seems to spend forever in the shower every single day. There are a lot of lingering stares, and more than once Kouji quietly vanishes into the back room to try and relax.

Iwai buys him some new clothes so he has an actual wardrobe, and they start to fall into something like an actual schedule.

Well, a schedule that randomly derails itself for custom orders.

Kouji’s a hard worker, even if he has plenty to learn, and even in his obviously distracted state, he’s still the best worker Iwai’s ever had. It’s easy to get himself in the mood by the time Tuesday rolls around--Kouji’s got a nice personality _and_  a nice body, and the idea of rewarding him is appealing.

He _wants_ to reward him.

He’s half hard himself by the time Kouji knocks on his bedroom door, adjusting himself in his pants before opening it.

“About time,” he says, unable to resist the smirk.

“Were you waiting?” Kouji asks, looking terribly nervous. He’s got track pants and a overly tight t-shirt on, neither of which leave much to the imagination.

“You could say that. You might as well come in,” he says, gesturing inside. The room’s cluttered--too much stuff and not enough places to put it all--but he’s tidied it up a bit and made sure the bed’s neat and clean.

“Probably not where you expected to have your first time I bet,” Iwai says, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the wall. “You even know how this works?”

He resists the urge to glance over his shoulder and sneak a peak at Kouji’s face. He can imagine it just fine--the blush, the twist of his lips--but he wants to leave it to his imagination.

He doesn’t want to spoil it.

“I, uh... know the general idea? I mean, there’s butts, and... stuff... goes in butts.”

“That was almost impressive how unappealing you made that sound.”

“Well-” Kouji splutters. “I mean - It -”

“Relax,” Iwai says as he peels his shirt off. “I know you’re a cherry boy. Do you even know why you’re doing this, though?”

“Uhm,” Kouji says, “Because it’s fun?”

Iwai can’t help but laugh at that, turning around to check on Kouji’s progress. Despite his amusement at Kouji’s answer, he’s disappointed to find Kouji is still _completely_ dressed.

“What’s the hold up?”

“Should I be - uh, getting-”

“Yes,” Iwai says, cutting off the long winded question. “Strip down and hop onto the bed so I can see what I’ve got to work with.”

Kouji actually _turns away_  before he starts to undress, acting the part of the chaste virgin. Iwai’s never put much value in the whole idea of having a _first time_ , beyond acknowledging it means he needs to take a bit more time getting ready.

Kouji obviously does though, because his blush extends all the way to the back of his neck as he strips off his clothes. For a moment, Iwai considers keeping his comments to himself, but the moment passes quickly--it’s much funner watching Kouji react.

“Nice back.”

“Are you going to comment on _everything_  you see?” Kouji says sheepishly as he tosses his shirt onto the top of the nearby dresser.

“If I think it’ll embarrass you, hell yeah.”

Kouji clearly makes a point of trying _not_  to be embarrassed as he strips his clothes off, but the blush makes it far too obvious. It’s not until he glances back at Iwai--finding him fully clothed save for his shirt--that he speaks again.

“Why am I the only one naked?” He says, his hands covering his groin even though he’s still wearing briefs.

“One, you’re not naked,” Iwai says. “And two, come sit down.”

Iwai doesn’t waste time when Kouji joins him on the bed, reaching up to grab at the taller man’s hip as he pulls him down. There’s not a moment spared as he presses in, dragging Kouji into a kiss.

Kouji’s an absolutely awful kisser, and despite what Iwai expects--a lot of enthusiasm--he’s more hesitant than anything, so Iwai pulls back after a moment.

“Something wrong?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

“I... just- I expected...”

“Fireworks?” Iwai guesses, letting out a laugh as he does. “Only in the movies. Kissing’s only really fun if you’re going to fight for it, and you don’t seem like the type.”

“Should I be?” Kouji says, nervously shifting his hands.

“No,” Iwai says, dragging his hand over Kouji’s hip and down to his groin. It’s like a bolt of lightning the moment he makes the slightest touch, Kouji’s entire body going stiff as his eyes squeeze shut, his breathing hitching.

“Sensitive,” Iwai teases, leaning up to nip at Kouji’s earlobe. Kouji’s practically putty in his hands, his breathing erratic as his arms loop around Iwai’s shoulders for support, leaning against him heavily.

“Did you even jerk off?” He asks, pretty sure the answer is either _no_  or _I did once when I was sixteen and never again_.

“Not since- Not in a long while,” Kouji says, his tone suddenly somber. 

“Hey,” Iwai says, pressing a light kiss to Kouji’s cheek. “Sorry, was just teasin’. Should have thought about what I said.”

It’s obvious to him that Kouji’s upset, and he settles for wrapping his arms around Kouji’s waist, leaning against him as he takes a moment to recover.

“You shouldn’t have to worry about stuff like this,” Kouji mutters under his breath, and Iwai reaches up, catching his chin and pulling his face towards him so that he can press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

“So? Not like it really matters to me. You’re supposed to be having fun. So pay attention, because if this happens more than once I’m expecting you to return the favor.”

He punctuates it with another little kiss and then eases himself back, trailing kisses down Kouji’s jaw and onto his neck before finally reaching his torso. He already has a game plan in mind--has for a while--and he’s not going to let Kouji’s embarrassment stop him.

“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he mutters under his breath as he bends all the way over, mouthing hungrily at Kouji’s underwear. There’s already a wet spot where Kouji’s been leaking precum, and Iwai makes it even wetter in short order.

“Iwai...” Kouji groans from above him, and Iwai can’t help but wonder just how loud he’s going to be once they’re properly underway.

“Mune,” he says after a moment.

“Huh?”

“Mune. Munehisa. If were at the point where I’m going to suck your dick, we’re definitely past the point where you can call me by my name.”

“Are you sure..?” Kouji says hesitantly, and Iwai snorts.

“If you don’t call me by my name, I ain’t sucking your dick.”

“Uhm,” Kouji says. “Mune?”

“That was awful,” Iwai says with a sigh, but it’s what he asked for, so he presses back in, mouthing over the bulge in front of him. He doesn’t drag it out though--instead he slips his hands up, pulling Kouji’s underwear down and taking a good long look.

“Not bad,” Iwai says with a little whistle. “Nice size, nice curve...”

Kouji looks like he’s about to burst into flames from sheer embarrassment, so Iwai spares him, pressing forward and popping the head into his mouth.

It’s been a while since he sucked anyone off--a few months at least--but he still considers himself pretty good at it. Really, he could probably be _awful_  and Kouji’d still be having the time of his life, so having even Iwai’s level of skill is overkill. Kouji writhes against him, his hands fluttering over Iwai’s back and shoulder blades, obviously unclear on just what it is that he should be doing.

“Relax,” Iwai says as he pops the head out of his mouth. “Nothing you can really do is wrong here, so just do what feels right and enjoy.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead he presses down, swallowing Kouji all the way down to the root, even though it makes him gag to do so.

Kouji groans so loud that Iwai decides then and there that it’s the last time they’ll be doing _anything_  in the house. Kouji’s so loud that Iwai’s already starting to think about how he’s going to explain it to the neighbors, so it’s fucking in the shop from then on.

Or a gag. A gag would work.

“Mune,” Kouji groans as Iwai starts to bob, every tiny movement that Iwai makes earning himself another round of moans. Kouji’s oversensitive and awfully fun to play with, and Iwai drags his fingers down the inside of Kouji’s thigh as he bobs.

He doesn’t take it all the way though. He waits for Kouji to start to squirm almost uncontrollably, and then he pulls back, releasing the cock from his mouth with a wet pop.

“You’ll just have to hold on,” Iwai says with a cheeky grin. “No rushing into an orgasm without sharing.”

“I..” Kouji gasps, but that’s all he can manage between desperate pants, staring down at himself with something that Iwai decides is fascination.

“Lean back,” Iwai prompts, pressing his hand to Kouji’s chest and gently pushing him back to help get his brain into action. “And spread your legs.”

Kouji does, much to Iwai’s surprise, although he looks horribly embarrassed by the entire process. His cock’s still hard, wet and sloppy where it rests against his body, and Iwai fights the urge to just finish him off right there.

That’s not the point, he reminds himself.

“First time’s going to feel weird, and you’re probably going to be sore afterwards,” Iwai warns. “Stuffs supposed to come out, not go in, and your body is going to protest every step of the way. But when I find that magic spot... _then_  you’ll enjoy it.”

“That sounds... not so good,” Kouji says hesitantly.

“You’ll get used to it,” Iwai says with a laugh, reaching over to his nightstand to fetch some lube, rolling it between his hands so it’s not quite so cold. “It’s always a bit uncomfortable to start, but worth it in the end.”

“It’s alright,” Kouji says after a short pause. “I trust you.”

Iwai is genuinely surprised to hear that, and he shifts his attention up to Kouji’s face.

“Really? We met like... fuck, a week ago.”

Maybe a bit more, if he’s being generous.

Kouji isn’t put off by his dismissive tone, although he looks awfully embarrassed by the entire conversation.

“If you were going to... to turn me in, then you’d have already done it. You already know my biggest secret, everything else... it’s nothing in comparison.”

Iwai lets the thought roll around in his head as he drags his fingers along Kouji’s thighs, liberally applying lube to his fingers even as he thinks.

“Guess that’s fair,” Iwai says. “You’re trusting me with your life, so trusting me with your ass ain’t nothing in comparison.”

“You didn’t have to put it that way!” Kouji protests, going increasingly red, and Iwai takes that as his cue to start pressing a finger in. It’s well lubed, but even so it’s slow going--Kouji’s ass is awfully tight, and he scratches the fingers of his free hand down Kouji’s thigh as he does.

“Relax,” he instructs, “deep breaths.”

Kouji obviously tries, his stomach fluttering nervously as Iwai works his finger inside. Iwai’s got a lot of experience, and he does what he can to ease the entire process, gently rubbing at Kouji’s thigh to distract him from the strange sensation as he stretches him out, pressing a second finger in.

“Why do your fingers have to be so _big_?” Kouji mumbles under his breath, and Iwai doesn’t bother biting back his laugh.

“if you think _that’s_  big, you should see my dick,” he says, scissoring his fingers carefully.

“Is it... is it really going to fit?”

“It’ll fit, don’t you worry,” Iwai says as he presses a third finger in, watching Kouji’s face for any more signs of discomfort. “I’ll stretch you right out before we do anything more.”

Kouji sags back into the bed, his chest rising and falling with every single shaky breath. His entire body is trembling as Iwai spreads his fingers out, making no effort to find his sweet spot and ease him into things. He wants to save it, wants the first time he feels it to be when Iwai’s own cock presses up against it.

He leaves Kouji’s thighs--thick with muscle--by themselves for once, instead using his spare hand to undo his pants, leaving them mostly on but pushing down the front, letting his cock pop free.

Kouji’s staring from the moment he does, swallowing nervously.

“Is it really-”

“It’ll fit,” Iwai says. “I’ll show you.”

He removes his fingers in short order, pulling Kouji’s legs up as he lines himself up. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anticipating it, eager for the feel of Kouji squeezing down on him. He’s hard as a goddamn rock, and he presses the head against Kouji’s hole as he grabs at Kouji’s thighs, giving them each a squeeze.

“Deep breath, Kouji,” he says before pressing his hips forward at last.

Kouji’s _painfully_  tight around him as he presses in, his ass twitching around Iwai as he does. Iwai has to remind _himself_  to breath as he presses halfway in.

“Iwai,” Kouji says breathlessly. “It hurts.”

“It’ll be a bit-”

“Your hands,” Kouji says, his face cringing as Iwai abruptly realizes his grip on Kouji’s thighs is _bruising_  rather than simply holding. He immediately releases his grip, flushing red as he does.

“Sorry. It was - it was distracting,” Iwai mutters, mortified by the fact that he’s probably _bruised_  Kouji completely without meaning to.

“It’s big,” Kouji says, his voice breathy, and Iwai feels his cock twitch in response. Kouji looks amazing--flushed and embarrassed, but also terribly erotic, his cock hard and twitching between his legs as Iwai rests half inside him.

“I’m pushing the rest of the way in. More deep breaths,” Iwai says before doing just that, pressing his hips forward bit by bit. It seems to take forever before he finally reaches the end, his hips pressing tight to Kouji’s ass, but once he does it’s undeniably satisfying, his entire body trembling as he tries to get used to the tight heat.

“How’s it feel?” Iwai asks, entirely self indulgent.

“Like I’m splitting in two,” Kouji admits, his face a grimace of discomfort. Not pain, thankfully--Iwai’s pretty sure he’d be able to tell the difference--but Kouji’s definitely not enjoying it right then.

“You’ll get used to it,” Iwai says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Kouji’s knee. He considers leaning down fully--giving him a proper kiss--but Kouji looks terribly uncomfortable just with the little bit of movement that the knee kiss requires, so he decides against it.

Until later, anyway.

He can’t resist the urge to press a hand down over Kouji’s stomach, feeling every breath he makes as he tries to get himself used to the sensation.

“I’m going to start moving,” Iwai says, but it’s not a question--just a warning--and he doesn’t give Kouji time to respond  before he pulls his hips back, snapping them forward in one quick movement.

Kouji _moans_ , long and loud as his back arches up, his fingers tangling into the sheets.

“First try?” Iwai says with a snort. “Now you know why people like it.”

Kouji’s cock is dripping precum already, and Iwai reaches down, giving it a careful stroke as he starts to rock. He’s already found Kouji’s prostate, and it’s easy to hit it again, shifting his hips forward for a better angle as he does. Kouji’s incoherent almost immediately, moans and small cries of pleasure the only sounds he can manage to make.

“Don’t go off too quickly,” Iwai says, releasing Kouji’s cock from his fingers and settling for grabbing at his hip instead, using it for leverage as he does. He suspects that his instruction is falling on deaf ears, because Kouji gives absolutely no sign he’s heard, let alone that he’s going to try. 

Kouji’s amazingly tight. He’s not participating much--that’s a lesson for later--but Iwai’s doing perfectly fine even without help. He’s pliant in Iwai’s hands, willing to move as Iwai directs him into better positions.

“Iwai...” Kouji manages to choke out after a few more strokes, his hand coming up to cover his own mouth.

“Mune,” Iwai reminds him, leaning down to press a kiss to Kouji’s lips. It muffles him--which is nice in it’s own way--but it also make it obvious how lost and desperate and _eager_  Kouji is. He kisses back with obvious desperation, Iwai has to pull back to keep his own focus, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

“Mune,” Kouji says, choking it out between groans. He says it again, and then again, over and over until it’s like one great big long word, a desperate, needy chant.

Staring down at Kouji--his eyes squeezed shut, his entire body soaked with sweat, and his cock rock hard as it bobs against his stomach--does _awful_  things to Iwai.

The flutter of Kouji’s insides against him is enough to make him clue in that the fun’s coming to an end, and he bends over a bit more, reaching down to wrap his hand around Kouji’s cock, jerking him off as the young man rushes towards completion.

It doesn’t take long. Kouji’s entire body shudders as he cums, splattering his own belly and Iwai’s hand as he does, his mouth a perfect _o_  as he lets out one of the most erotic noises that Iwai’s ever heard. He doesn’t pause to let Kouji bask in the afterglow, instead taking advantage of it as he picks up his pace, jack hammering his hips as he rushes _himself_ towards orgasm.

It comes easier than he expected. Kouji’s not the best lay he’s had--he’s had _far_  better--but there’s something appealing about having a familiar face underneath him rather than a pretty face he’s picked up in a bar.

He finishes with a groan of his own, burying his face against Kouji’s shoulder as he presses as far in as he can go. His entire body feels tense, and it’s only after he’s done--lost in a pleasant haze--that he finally lets himself relax, sagging against Kouiji.

“Have fun?” Iwai asks after a few minutes.

Kouji’s relaxed under him, looking completely out of it, but the question makes him raise his head ever so slightly.

“That was... something.”

“Not exactly an inspiring review,” Iwai says with a snort, wondering if it’s possible for Kouji to get any more flushed than he already is. He makes a point of shifting back, rolling off him with a sore groan.

“My legs are fucked,” Iwai mutters to himself. “Bad angle I guess.”

“That was... that was amazing,” Kouji mutters, rolling onto his side. It’s obvious that he’s trying to be affectionate, and after a moments consideration, Iwai allows it, letting Kouji cuddle up to his side. “I don’t think my brain has, uh... started working yet.”

“Well,” Iwai says with a wave of his hand. “I vote we get pizza for lunch, fuck our way through the afternoon, and then go to bed early so we can sleep off how fuckin’ sore we’re going to be.”

Kouji, as it turns out, _can_  get redder.


End file.
